Oh sweet mind what have you done
by Sam.ded.person
Summary: It's a year after the war is over and Hogwarts has been reopened to welcome its students. Harry has been dealing with several issues since the end of the war, and as time goes by they seem to get worse. Draco is struggling with self acceptance and fear for himself. Both have surrendered to their minds and are now suffering for it, they will need each other to get better.
1. Chapter 1

**So this story talks a lot about depression, cutting, suicide mentions, talks about abuse, anxiety and OCD, so there's mention of intrusive thought that have a lot to do with death. If you are triggered by this, please click off, I'm writing this for myself as a way of coping with such topics.**

 **If you chose to stay, let me explain this story in more detail. So to me, after the war Harry was left with severe depression, his need for control all of his life finally lead to him developing OCD. This is an eight year story, it settles a year after the end of war, the year was spent with the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Also note that since I can't relate to the actual dates of when this happened, I will be writing this mentioning technology from current years.**

 **Pairings:**

 **Brief Harry/Ginny**

 **Ron/Hermione**

 **Eventual Harry/Draco**

 **Rating: M for some sex scenes and also depression related content.**

 **In a final note, Harry's OCD is a reflection of my own OCD.**

* * *

Harry tapped his finger over his thigh in the familiar manner, if just to focus on something else.

 _Tap tap._

Tap.

 _Tap tap._

Tap.

 _Tap tap._

Tap _._

He breathed in, breathed out. He focused on the way the shadows changed when the train passed a tunnel. He focused on the way Hermione's mouth moved as she explained something to Ginny. He tried to focus on the way Ginny kept stroking his right hand, the one that wasn't tapping.

He finally snapped. He got up from his seat beside the window and got out of the compartment. Muttering under his breath the word 'bathroom', just so they wouldn't look for him immediately once they noticed he had been gone for a few minutes. He passed in front of closed and open compartment doors, pretending not to notice the way some people got out of their seats just to look at him, even though he greeted the annoying distraction the staring gave him. He finally reached the last cart of the train and opened the door that lead to the outside. Heaving a great lungful of fresh air, he leaned against the railing and looked up at the stormy sky that stretched over his head.

He did a pattern with which he was entirely too familiar with to calm himself down. He rolled his head from side to side, stretched his arms above his head and closed his eyes. He breathed as he counted to a hundred twenty, skipping the odd numbers. Finally, he felt like he could breathe again and reentered the train.

As he entered the second to last cart, he bumped into the shoulder of a guy whom was walking briskly in the other direction.

"Sorry" the other guy grumbled under his breath. Harry's breath got caught in his throat as he recognized the voice. But before he could reply, Malfoy had gone into the compartment near the door and shut it with a carefulness that didn't match his stride. But he shook his head, after all, he shouldn't be surprised to see him be back, he had spoken in his trial in hopes of them not sentencing him to Azkaban. But the knowledge didn't make it easier for him to see him again after almost a year of the boy being absent from the world. He shook his head and continued walking until he got with his friends and reseated beside Ginny. Their conversation flowed around him, they all seemed so excited to be back, so was he after all, if only he could convince his mind that that was true.

"It's crazy how things seem to be back to normal." Hermione said with a smile.

"It won't be though" commented Ginny with a frown, the smile on Hermione's face dimmed drastically, but it seemed she was intent on staying hopeful.

There were a few seconds in which nobody said anything, which were broken by Ron.

"So…quidditch. I'm thinking of trying out again this year, with some luck there won't be any ridiculously talented first years." He winked at Harry, he attempted at a smile.

"Bollocks Ron, you know you're hopeless." Said Ginny with a smirk.

"That's not true, I did improve with time on sixth year." Ron replied sounding quite offended by Ginny's comment.

"With time…" Ginny's smirk only grew.

"What about you, Harry?" Hermione said just as Ron was about to say something which was obviously not nice enough for sibling relation according to Hermione's reaction.

"Haven't really thought about quidditch, I guess I'll decide when the moment arrives" He shrugged and went back to looking out the window, but not before he saw Hermione frown at him, her brows furrowed in concern. He dismissed it in his head before he too grew concerned for himself.

He did, however, feel excitement fill his veins as he saw Hogwarts loom into view, and for the first time since a few months ago, he smiled brightly. He turned to Ginny and smiled at her, she seemed confused but smiled nonetheless. They changed into their school robes hurriedly and prepared to descend from the train.

It finally came to a halt and they waited for a few seconds as the thundering of hundreds of kids passed to get out. When they were outside, Hermione left their group to go direct the first years with Hagrid, as she had become Head Girl for their eight year.

"Come on mate, we gotta hurry up if we want to catch and empty coach." Ron tugged on his sleeve and dragged him to an empty coach near the back of the line, in which Ginny, Luna and Neville were already seated. Hermione entered hurriedly just the moment before the coaches started moving. Harry watched with sad eyes as his friends saw for the first times the bat like thestrals that cared the coaches to the entrance of Hogwarts, but now he didn't feel alone in the knowledge of said beasts, as he felt his friends could understand him a little better now, though it wasn't such a good thought.

They entered the Great Hall along with everyone else, and Harry felt again as hundreds of people turned to look at him, to whisper and point in his direction. He felt a blush creep up his face and felt deeply irritated with himself for letting their staring affect him. But there was a pair of eyes he couldn't ignore though he tried. He turned in the direction of the Slytherin table and caught the eyes of none other than Draco Malfoy, he was sneering in his direction, which wasn't unusual, what was unusual was the lack of hate in his eyes, his expression didn't match his stare at all, and Harry felt compelled to stare at him, he couldn't stop looking in the boy's direction, not until Ron saw who he was looking at.

"Just ignore the git" he tugged on his arm and led him with the others, but not before giving Malfoy the finger. Harry dropped his eyes and followed Ron.

* * *

Draco couldn't help but cringe inwardly as his eyes met the impossibly green ones of none other than the Golden Boy's himself. He supposed he had already failed twice at his attempt to be on good terms with Potter, not that he had tried, but he had thought to do so, quite a lot if he admitted it. All throughout he couldn't stop thinking about what he had said at his trial, how his eyes had shone as he spoke in favor of Draco keeping his freedom, but most of all, he couldn't forget the way he looked impossibly tired, as though he had stayed awake for a century and knew that no matter how much he tried to sleep the tiredness away, it just wouldn't go away, and Draco couldn't help noticing how that same look could be found in himself. So he had convinced himself he could be nice to Potter, he would try with all – most really – of his might to get the tiredness out of Potter's eyes.

"Draco, are you even listening to me?" Pansy snapped at him and he turned slowly to look at her, he only smirked halfheartedly at her, she huffed but he saw the barest hint of a smile on her face as she turned to her left to speak with a seven year slytherin girl.

Draco continued to be absent of mind all throughout the sorting of the first years. He didn't snap out of his trance until half way through dinner Theo kicked him harshly on his shin from under the table. He hissed and glared at him as he rubbed his leg, he only laughed and smirked at him.

"Thinking about Potter, are you?" He said as he continued to smirk. Draco huffed but felt himself flush faintly, he pretended to be carefully concentrated on cutting his baked potato. He heard Pansy snort beside him and looked sideways to see her winking at Theo, which only made him snort with laughter and smirk at Blaise in turn.

"I would never do such a thing" he finally said in an over undignified manner.

"Of course not honey. You'd never talk about Potter, let alone think about him. It's not like we don't know any of his secrets thanks to you, like perhaps his pants colour." Pansy said bluntly. He tried to kick her feet but it seemed she had heightened senses for she moved her feet away the moment almost crashed.

"Of course not" he muttered, but he knew that what they were saying was true, not use in denying it.

 _Whatever_ , he thought. _They don't even know half of it._

* * *

Harry washed his face roughly. Then he dried it by patting a towel over his face. After that he brushed his teeth, counting to twenty on every side and spitting out tooth paste at least twice before he was finally done. If he felt like the anxiety wasn't at bay, he would use mouth wash, but it didn't feel like it was that kind of day. He sighed tiredly as he considered his amount of anxiety to know what the next step of his routine would be. He clenched his hands into fists and watched as other boys moved inside the bathroom. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathed deeply and then opened them, he saw Dean's confused face through the mirror as he walked into the bathroom. He looked down and gathered his things.

As a strategy to achieve inter-house unity, Mcgonagall had placed all of the eight years in a separate dorm room from their classmates of other houses. They each got a single room, seeing as there weren't many of them at all, but they had to share bathrooms, the common room and classrooms with each other.

Harry walked to his room so he could go to sleep, it was almost eleven at night after all. He waved at Hermione and Ron, who were seated in a love chair across the common room. He walked into his room and grabbed his pajamas from his trunk and changed into them, then he closed his curtains, grabbed his wand and set an alarm for the morning. He got under the covers and closed his eyes.

Harry didn't really notice when he had stated feeling the way he felt, it was like one day he woke up and felt the need to do certain things so his brain could finally move on, he didn't notice when he started thinking things he knew he shouldn't, he didn't notice when he got depressed. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to acknowledge this things, he had, but he just couldn't find the words to explain how he no longer could do mundane things like grab a knife to cut his food without getting the image in his head of him killing a loved one. Or how he would grip his wand a little tighter when he walked across a railing or beside a sewer without feeling the impulse of throwing it across it or letting it fall. He knew he would never kill anyone, he was too afraid for that, and he also knew that if he dropped his wand, he would feel guilt creep into him and swallow him slowly, but his brain didn't seem to register that, so he walked briskly away, or cut his food faster to just drop the knife. And his depression, oh he knew it was caused by all of the events from his life bottling up, and it seemed it had finally reached its limit.

Harry turned to his side to get in a more comfortable position. He slowly felt sleep creep into him, he always knew he would fall asleep, the anxiety of not doing so and the events of each day always left him drained of energy.


	2. Chapter 2

**In this chapter I'm going to be further explaining Harry's issues.**

 **Note: I don't condone self harm, I don't think its a healthy way of coping at all, but I do understand how it feels to have such thoughts.**

 **There are two words with numbers, if you aren't familiar with them I'll be writing their meaning.**

 **1) General Anxiety Disorder**

 **2) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder**

* * *

Draco knew he wasn't a bad person, deep in his heart he knew that was the truth. Yet he couldn't bring himself to believe it. Sure, his father had done worse, many people had done so much worse than he had, but how could you believe that when you bore a mark that made you remember every time you saw it what bad you had done, when so many people constantly reminded you. A few hours ago, this thoughts hadn't been on the front of his mind, his friends helped to keep such thoughts away, but now he couldn't stop the thoughts as he lay on the floor leaning against the wall, clutching his torso as a horrible pain spread all over his body.

A whimper escaped his lips and he pressed one of his hands against his lips as he slowly got up and started walking towards the dungeons, where he had stashed a first aid kit. He leaned heavily against the wall, dragging his feet one at a time and constantly stopping both to catch his breath and shut his eyes tightly to stop himself from crying.

He finally got to the entrance to the eight common room and mumbled the password to the portrait, which swung to let him in. It was already empty as it was past curfew and most preferred to hang out at their own dorm rooms if the wanted to stay up late. He first went to the bathroom to retrieve his kit before going to the bathroom, there he placed a locking charm and took off his shirt, and he saw that there were already bruises forming on his pale skin. Gently, he pressed a finger and hissed as the pain grew. He wasn't really good at healing charms so he had to stick to potions and bandages.

After twenty minutes of trying to deal with the pain of wrapping the bandages around his torso, he was finally done, now he could go to sleep, or try to do so.

As he walked to his room, feeling slightly less pain than before, he heard what definitely sounded like crying. He frowned and looked around, trying to guess where the sound was coming from. His frown deepened when he noticed that it was coming from Potter's room, which was two doors away from his. He felt and ache form in his chest, it was an ache different from physical pain, it was purely from emotional pain. He heard a pain that definitely echoed his own, but this one had a different tone, it sounded like years of pent up frustration and pain bottled up to the moment that it had been too much, unlike him that had only been feeling this way for a few years.

He also realized with a start how much he wanted to stop Potter from feeling this way, for the pain to stop and see him smile, the way he had seen him do countless of times over the years when he couldn't stop himself from looking his way and catching sight of the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life. So perhaps that's what made him fall for Potter, or maybe his easy confidence, or his loyalty, or his kindness, maybe it was a hundred different things, maybe it was just one enormous thing, whatever it was, he knew he could never stop feeling this way, and that as the longer the feeling stayed, the harder it was to live knowing he wanted something he could never have.

So with sorrow deep in his soul, he walked away feeling worse than he had in a few months.

* * *

In the morning, the pain in his torso had subsided to a dull but painful ache. So he grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Just as he walked out of his room he saw Potter step out of his own and stumble in the direction of the bathroom. He stopped for a second as he remembered the sounds coming from his room just last night and frowned when he began feeling depressed again. He shook his head and walked after Potter in direction of the bathroom. He got undressed quickly and hoped no one had seen his bruises. He showered more slowly than he intended, but managed and stepped outside to change in one of the changing stalls, placed there for those that were lazy, or couldn't chance to be seen, to change there.

Again, as he stepped outside while combing his hair, he saw Potter step out of one of the shower stalls with a towel wrapped around his slim waist. But his arousal at seeing Potter half naked flew from his mind the moment he saw what looked like freshly carved cuts on his right forearm, some even on his abdomen. His throat constricted as he realized what Potter had done to himself, and wondered briefly what was going on in his mind as he briskly walked away and moved his arms against is abdomen to cover both places from prying eyes and left the bathroom to go to his room. Draco watched him leave and thought about what the consequences of going after him in an effort to stop further harm coming to that beautiful body of his. But he didn't, he knew he couldn't, that he shouldn't, so he grabbed his things and left to go to his room, where the thoughts of Potters cuts didn't leave his mind. He briefly wondered if the pain had gone away after doing such a thing to himself.

Just as he finished getting ready someone knocked the door.

"Come in" he called without looking away from the mirror and with his right hand grabbing his wand to take away the locking charms he had placed. However he did look when he saw that Pansy was standing there.

"Hey" she said tentatively, she had already changed into her school robes and had a bag filled with books over her shoulder.

"Ready to go?" she gestured towards the corridor with her head. The cheer that yesterday was buzzing through her seemed to be gone, replaced with nervousness.

"Umm… yeah" he knew he had failed to conceal his slight limp as he grabbed his things from the des in the corner of the room.

"What happened?" she dropped her bag and rushed to him, putting her hands over his chest and arm, which made him huff with pain and flinch away from Pansy.

"I'm fine" he said more harshly than intended. He softened his tone when he saw her lean away from him. "Seriously Pans, I can handle it, after all, I've been through worse" he smiled at her which made her face twist with concern, so he grabbed both of their school bags and proceeded to grab her hand and lead her out of his room.

She leaned and smiled against his arm. He smiled back at her. He did love Pansy, and he knew she loved him, but both knew that they could never be anything more than friends, he was gay and to her, he just wasn't the one, or so she had told him once before he admitted to being gay. But the both loved each other nonetheless, like a brother loved a sister.

When they had almost reached the Great Hall, Pansy finally took her bag from him and walked ahead of him to catch up to Blaise. He shook his head as he smiled to his two clueless friends, both of whom had no idea that they fancied each other.

He felt Theo come up next to him so they entered the Great Hall together and sat at the Slytherin table, where breakfast was already served. Draco didn't really feel like eating but grabbed a toast and served himself coffee none the less, knowing he wouldn't be able to get through the day without some food in his system.

As he listened to Theo tell him about this Slytherin girl he liked, Draco saw Potter enter with the Weasel and Granger, he walked a step behind them and appeared to only nod halfheartedly at what Granger was telling them, his eyes downcast and his whole body sagging a little, he looked like shite.

"Draco, stop starring" Pansy scolded him with a smirk, she seemed less nervous than ten minutes ago. He did as she said, but not because she told him but because he saw Potter glance at him, he didn't really want to look at his eyes after last night.

"Whatever" he grumbled under his breath and continued to eat. Draco's mind was drifting off and not even Pansy could stop it from going down a path he knew she shouldn't go to, but ever since last night he hadn't been able to shake the tingle in his hands every time he thought about Potter and his stupid face. He swirled his coffee in his cup and downed it in one go when he heard Potter laugh, and almost choked when he couldn't stop laughing, so he abruptly got up from the table and left the Great Hall. When he was far enough, he leaned against the wall and stared at the door in front of him, not really seeing it at all.

How could Potter go from earthshattering misery to full blown laughing in a few minutes? He thought to himself, knowing he couldn't do that and cursing himself for not trying better to feel better. Perhaps he should just do what his body craved to have done. He shook his head and felt a tear slide down his face as his breathing got labored, and his hands started to shake, so he succumbed to his thoughts and went back to his room.

* * *

Harry wasn't happy, no matter how much he laughed and how much he smiled, he didn't feel it, his happy reactions felt more like a reflex, triggered by other laughing or smiling his way, but he just didn't feel it, any more than he felt the blade drag across his skin. Yesterday had gone horribly wrong, all summer he had stopped himself from doing it, but he had relapsed after not doing it since just after the war. But he couldn't handle the stress of being in a new yet old environment, how he couldn't fit the things he usually did to calm his brain. Also being back had brought so many memories he had stuffed at the back of his brain. He had struggled all summer and had finally succumbed to Hermione's nagging and had gone to see a therapist, a muggle one as he hadn't wanted to be questioned about what he was doing there by the press. There he had been diagnosed with severe depression and GAD(1), which was apparently caused by something he hadn't thought he had, but it made sense, he had OCD(2), which caused him to get intrusive thoughts, thoughts that perhaps didn't make sense, but he couldn't get rid of them, well sometimes he could, but never in a healthy way, according to his therapist anyway, it didn't really matter to him if it was healthy or not, she didn't have to live with those thoughts after all. But now he couldn't perform any of those routines, so he had gone back to a way of dealing with them that his therapist had tried to get out of him. But somethings weren't made for people to deal with in a healthy way.

There was so much pain and guilt and anxiety, and sorrow, and many other things, inside his head. He just couldn't deal with them sometimes.

Over the summer, one day after a really bad panic attack about the fact that he couldn't find his coffee mug in Hermione and Ron's flat, Hermione had convinced him to tell her about what he felt, so she could try to understand. So Harry told her about the OCD and depression, he told her that in his brain there was a voice that constantly 'bullied' him, that was the word he used to describe it, and that while he did certain tasks and routines in order to feel like he had some control over his life, it just made him feel like he couldn't control anything that happened, no matter how much he tried. So Hermione had helped him search for his mug and helped him prepare coffee with just the right amount of everything. He had continued to confide in her whenever he felt like he was about to relapse, but he just couldn't tell her this time, he didn't want to bother her, he never did but some days he just had to, he didn't really want to die.

"Mate, want to go play quidditch after classes?" Ron asked him as he stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth, Harry looked away and balled his hands into fists. He saw Hermione kick Ron's leg sharply and glare at him in a way that could make anyone fall to their knees before her.

"Sorry, you know how I am" Ron apologized, after swallowing properly. He felt himself relax slightly, and nodded at him with a weak smile.

"No problem, but umm…yeah, sure".

Hermione had told Ron about Harry's problems about a month ago when Ron had walked into Grimmauld Place, where Harry lived when he wasn't at his friend's flat in Wimbledon London and saw Harry on the floor clutching his broken wrist as he sobbed into the carpet. Ron had then rushed to call Hermione over and help him, Harry told Hermione that he had been doing his morning stair walk, avoiding the odd numbers of course, and had fallen down the stairs landing roughly on his wrist. Then Hermione proceeded to explain to Ron, with Harry's permission, what had been going on with him over the last year. Ron had been mad at first about not being told sooner and had blamed them for not trusting him, Harry had proceeded to get depressed and hadn't come out of his room for a week, barely even touching the food Kreacher brought to his room. Ron had apologized and so had Harry. After that Ron had asked him to tell them about a few things that brought on his anxiety so they could avoid doing them. Harry hadn't felt that happy in a long while.

"Come on Ron, hurry up, we've got to get to class" Hermione said as Ron ate the last strip of bacon and got up from the table, then he turned around.

"Why don't you ever say anything to Harry?" Ron complained as they walked into the transfiguration classroom, where some of the students were already chatting.

"Because, Harry is capable of doing things on his own without being told to" Hermione said as she took out her books. Harry chuckled and crossed eyes with Ron, who looked very much annoyed, but grinned at Harry nonetheless. As more students filed into the classroom, Harry started to drift off again, this time out of tiredness, Hermione noted as she kept a watchful eye on Harry as he leaned heavily on his left arm and did mindless spirals with his quill.

Just as the last student occupied their seat, Mcgonagall entered the room and a hush settled over the eight and seventh years.

"Today we will be practicing conjuring. Finnegan, I saw you send that note, pleas retrieve it. Longbottom, would you please stop talking" Mcgonagall turned to the blackboard behind her and drew the wand movement.

"Please start". It was difficult, to say the least. They had to conjure water into their goblets but all Harry had been able to conjure was steam, which blew off right away. Hermione however, had been able to conjure water into her goblet by the end of the class. They next had History of Magic, which Harry dreaded as he didn't think he would be able to contain his thoughts and not let them drift into a dark place, caused by the inevitable boredom and sleepiness Binns's class evoked in its students. So they settled in the back and Harry opened his bag to take out a quill and ink, even though he knew he wouldn't be writing anything.

Ron fell asleep in the first eight minutes of class, Hermione was clearly trying to pay attention, but her eyes kept drifting towards Ron's sleeping face. She managed to stay focused for ten minutes after that before she started stroking Ron's hair, Harry had to look away as he felt a pang of jealousy, followed by guilt.

He started doodling on his parchment and was soon full on drawing, he didn't really know what he was doing, it seemed like his hand had a mind of its own and simply used Harry's capability of moving it to fulfill its purpose. He was startled out of his concentration when he heard the door open and looked up to see Draco Malfoy sneak into the classroom, he had his eyes cast downwards as he moved swiftly towards Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy seemed to be paler than he did an hour ago, his hair was also disheveled and his appearance seemed a little bit unkempt, and for the first time in his life, Harry found himself truly seeing Malfoy, not as in seeing a beautiful person underneath a mask, but as in actually seeing him as a human being, Harry had never realized how he never really considered Malfoy to be anything but a prat, but it seemed that seeing him look as someone that clearly had some issues helped him see that he was a person.

Harry shook his head and looked down to see what he had been drawing, his mind hadn't really been focused on drawing but rather his hand had been. He saw something beautiful, and for a moment he couldn't believe he had drawn it. There was a small cage in the centre left of the parchment, it was open and on the right upper corner there was a hummingbird, it wasn't the most accurate representation of it but you could see it clearly, there was a slight meaning to it, he thought, but his brain felt too jumbled to really process it.

"What is that Harry?" Hermione reached to grab the drawing but in that second his mind focused and he snatched the drawing away.

She looked confused but didn't say anything. When they left the classroom, Harry walked a couple of paces behind his friends, they dint question it. His mind was on the hummingbird and how there was a certain pain in the way it was drawn and felt confused at his lack of ownership towards the drawing, but he didn't feel like such a beautiful thing could belong to such and ugly being like him.


End file.
